


soon we'll be found

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Bondage, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Fanfiction, M/M, Objectification, Outdoor Sex, Painplay, Rimming, Rough Sex, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom fucks Bradley on a football pitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	soon we'll be found

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes: Bondage, dub-con, painplay, bloodplay, reference to spanking and fisting, rimming, biting, outdoor sex, dirty talk

"You're, fuck, you're splitting me open," Bradley panted, head hanging between his bound arms, "and _now_ ask if it's okay?"  
  
It wasn't an answer, but Tom could hear the grimaced grin in Bradley's voice. He figured it'd do. Looking down, he ran the side of his thumb along the stretched rim of Bradley's hole, where it hungrily gripped his cock. Shit, that felt good. His hips jerked forward on their own accord, and Bradley cursed, tensing. His arms were tied to the side pole of the football goal, his underwear ripped and caught around his cleats. The night was hot and the fake grass damp underneath their knees. It had been a good day to play, and it was an even better night to fuck, with Bradley sweating and swearing and twisting under the faraway glow of lamppost.   
  
Tom slid back out, almost all the way, until the felt Bradley's tighter outter ring jealously clench on the rise of his head, then slammed back in. Bradley bit on a cry. Tom took a firm hold of Bradley's hips, digging his thumbs into the dips of Bradley's lower back, and started fucking him hard. Each thrust in had Bradley whine softly, raggedly, a wounded noise being fucked out of him.  
  
Bradley was _tight_ , and while few people weren't when fucked by Tom, Tom had fucked Bradley that very morning, holding his cheeks open with his hands and kneading and spanking them hard, making Bradley ride him while the sun rose until they were almost late for the pick-up. Bradley normally wouldn't be back to that virgin-tightness of his already. Tom wondered if it was that his arse was still smarting from his rodeo despite a long day of repeating lines, or the fact that at any time a nice French family could decide to walk by and see them rutting through the net, dirty and animalistic.   
  
Tom made a mental note to explore this later.   
  
He thrust back in, jerking Bradley backward to meet him halfway, going deep. Bradley cried out, resonating in the metal. Shudders ran up his back and made his arms convulse in their bonds, Tom's shoelaces gripping harder into Bradley's flesh and making the hanging cleats knock against the goal pole. No doubt Bradley would have harsh welts around his wrists tomorrow, the same way he had half-permanent bruises circling his hips like migrating, beating tattoos. That's alright. Tom will lick them later. He'll enjoy the clench of Bradley's jaw at the sting of saliva and sweat on abraded spots, the reflexive and powerless twitch in his legs while Tom presses him easily into the mattress, the table, the dirty sofa of the restroom.  
  
Tom jerked Bradley back again and again, just to make Bradley struggle, to make sure Tom would have something else bruised to lick than Bradley's angry-red, abused hole. Tom loved suckling Bradley's hole before and after fucking it, to make it flush brighter than Bradley's cheeks and shine wetter than his overspilling eyes. Bradley's face distorted in hurt and pleasure was gorgeous, neck taunt, lips curled back on his teeth as rough cries wrecked their way out of him even as Tom continued to impale him on his cock. Tom loved fucking Bradley until he was so spent his head rolled back and his eyes were half-masted at best, a firm pleasure toy made just for Tom, letting itself be manhandled and whimpering when Tom left for a cloth to clean the mess of its holes.   
  
There would be no cloth here though, Tom realised. "I'll clean you, after," he told Bradley, making his decision as he said it. "Your fucked-open arse, I'll eat it up once I'm done with it."   
  
"Sh-shut up," Bradley said between gasped.

Tom frowned and pressed hard between Bradley's shoulders, forcing him down further until he cried out at the strain on his arms. "I'll talk if I want. If I could, I'd bend you in half and force you to clean yourself up, like a dog." He said, knowing he could not. Bradley was flexible enough that Tom was now able to fold Bradley's knees next to his ears and have a good view of his dribbling arsehole when it was being fucked with a stunt sword, but he couldn’t suck his own cock yet.  "I'll lick you and bite you as I wish." Tom swept down and bit hard on Bradley's shoulder, ramming his cock inside.   
  
Bradley swore and bucked strongly enough to almost dismount Tom. His back was trembling, his hands clenched and his mouth open for heavy panting. He was near the edge.   
  
Tom picked up the space as Bradley sobbed with each thrust. Tom was almost done too. Reaching around, Tom gripped Bradley's hard cock, dwarfing it in his fist. He jerked him inelegantly, hand sweaty from its previous hold of Bradley's back.   
  
"Let go, my small prince," Tom growled into his shoulder, fucking into Bradley with his whole body sliding forward on the grass with each beat, knees dragging in the dirt. "Do it."   
  
Bradley wrenched himself upwards in a silent scream, cock ejaculating through Tom's fingers, back curving perfectly into Tom's chest. Bradley's hair was brushing his cheek and his wet eyelashes caught the light. His hole pulsed around Tom's cock, contracting for one, two, three heartbeats as everything stood still.   
  
Then, slowly, like a wind up doll in step motion, air left Bradley into a long broken moan and he went back down, one limb failing at a time, until he was boneless and hanging from his arms and Tom's grip.   
  
Tom pulled out, hissing as Bradley whined, and jerked himself off to completion all over Bradley's back.   
  
When his vision had cleared of spots, he'd untie Bradley, kiss his wounds, and set to cleaning him up. But for just a little while, he let himself drink in the sight of Bradley looking at him from half-closed eyes over his shoulder, mouth wet and abuse and still panting and curled in a stupid, just-fucked mindless smile, with sweat and dirt and come cooling in finger patterns over his back and thighs.   
  
Smiling back, Tom brushed wet hair out of Bradley's face.


End file.
